


Here's Your Destiny

by StarSpangledBucky



Series: Song of the White Wolf [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Rare Species, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bathing/Washing, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Fluff, Getting Back Together, Ghouls, Humour, Love Confessions, M/M, Or Author Attempting Humour, Reunions, Shipoween 2020, Soft Geralt, Tears, lots of them - Freeform, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:40:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27209758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarSpangledBucky/pseuds/StarSpangledBucky
Summary: It's been eleven months since Geralt watched the man he loved walk out of his life.orThe aftermath of episode 6 'Rare Species' in which Geralt and Jaskier reunite and mend their relationship.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Song of the White Wolf [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1986466
Comments: 2
Kudos: 63
Collections: Shipoween 2020 - The Halloween Ship Exchange!





	Here's Your Destiny

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Plaid_Slytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/gifts).



> For the Shipoween 2020 Exchange!
> 
> This is the first time I've ever written Geralt/Jaskier, but I thought I would give it a go, I'm always up for an adventure. I rated it mature mostly because there's some swearing in it, but also for the scene with ghouls since there's some hacking and slashing going on. 
> 
> I've also left out the 'child surprise' business that Geralt yelled about in Rare Species, given that I have made this a canon divergent storyline, along with foregoing timelines...as you do. So I replaced it with another mess that Geralt and Jaskier got themselves caught in. Jaskier's also got a family in this, who are made up, just to give a bit of a domestic feel to it.
> 
> There were so many scenes I wanted to add in, one that had smut in it too, unfortunately, I had to cut those due to my shitty time management. However, that's why I've decided to make this into a series (thank you to my best friend for that idea) and write another piece after this one. I can't give a definite time stamp on when that will be finished, I'll try to get it started as soon as possible though. 
> 
> I've made Geralt appear pretty emotional in this (he's in love can you blame him) and I just feel like Jaskier would bring all of that out of him. He cares very much for him. 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing it and I really hope you enjoy it!

* * *

_"_ _Damn it, Jaskier! Why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, it's you, shoveling it!"_

_"Well that's not fair."_

_"Sylvan and the elves, the Djinn, all of it!"_

_"Darling, please…"_

Geralt wakes with a start; skin coated with sweat as he pushes himself upright. He wipes his brow with the back of his hand and stares out at the sun rising over the hills, which tints the trees a dark orange. Geralt's eyes adjust to the brightness of the sunrise, before he breathes out a tired sigh and looks away. His hand falls over his face, as his fingers pinches the bridge of his nose, to the point where it hurts slightly. He's barely slept a wink, but It's been like this for months ever since—

_"If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands."_

It's been eleven months since Geralt watched the man he loved walk out of his life. Jaskier, a man with a kind heart, and the one who made Geralt care in a way he'd never cared about someone before. Yennefer's words still linger in his mind when he met with her weeks ago, once he received news that she found where Jaskier was. Geralt's been searching for him, has pleaded with multiple villagers to no avail, but Yennefer was the one who finally had an answer. 

_"You did break his heart, Geralt. Blaming him for your misfortunes and throwing everything away that you two had together."_

_"I didn't mean for it to happen this way."_

He recalls the way Yennefer looked at him with disappointment on her face; he knows he fucked up, and Geralt wishes he could take it all back. 

_"Did you ever tell him you loved him?"_

Geralt's jaw tightens at the unpleasant memory of his answer. 

_"No…"_

Instead of telling Jaskier that he loved him, he'd said that he was practically a burden, despite it not being Jaskier's fault in the first place. The djinn was an unfortunate accident which did almost cost Jaskier his life, however, Geralt loved him too dearly to allow that to happen. He remembers the relief he felt when Jaskier woke, when he looked like _himself_ again and not on the brink of death. Perhaps the destiny Geralt had been seeking was Jaskier all along, because now he feels empty like there is no purpose without him. Fighting monsters isn't the same anymore and Geralt thinks he should revert to his old ways, to never experience emotions again. 

_"Jaskier's with his family, in Kilmoor."_

Geralt hadn't thought that Jaskier might go back to his family home outside Kilmoor; up on a hill that overlooked a river. Truthfully, Jaskier hid himself well up until Yennefer knew of his whereabouts, which was what brought Geralt to where he is now. He's travelled for days, with only Roach as company, plus his sources of food and drink are starting to run low. He knows he is only a short ride away from the Pankratz home, yet decided to stop for rest the previous night. It seems like that wasn't an option either, not with the way his dreams turn to torment about that fateful day. 

A silver chain made from the finest silver, slides around in the palm of Geralt's hand, until he stops in favour of staring down at it instead. He acquired it for Jaskier when their relationship started to become serious, the kind that said _'I wish to be with you always'_ , only...they never quite kept to the _always_ part of it. Geralt isn't sure if Jaskier lost it or if he meant to leave it, but he found it on the trek back to the camp, which was deserted when he got there. There's a gem inside each link on the chain, one for every adventure they went on, each with a significant meaning to them. 

" _Fuck,_ " he curses, before he wipes his hand over his eyes that well with tears. 

Roach snorts from beside him, then continues to chew on the grass as Geralt elicits a tired sigh.

"I royally fucked up, huh Roach?" Geralt says. 

Roach's ears perk at his voice and Geralt smiles weakly back at her. People can think he's strange for talking to his horse, but Roach can't argue back like Yennefer had, Roach judges him silently instead. He doesn't blame her, or anyone he's talked to about Jaskier for that matter, as there's things he should have said compared to what he did say. Better yet, he should have followed him, he should have _fixed_ it. Geralt sees himself as somewhat of a coward for turning his back on Jaskier, by doing that he shut him out of his life. 

He tries not to think of the hurt expression on Jaskier's face; the way his eyes filled with tears or the way his mouth trembled when he tried to speak. There have been many times where Geralt has seen Jaskier upset, though never by him, and it's something Geralt never wants to see again. He's nervous to see Jaskier again; can't figure out what to say nor can he imagine how Jaskier will react. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Geralt hopes he can mend what they had. Because the fear of losing Jaskier completely, taunts him in the same way that the djinn incident had. 

Geralt pushes himself up to his feet and casts a sign to extinguish the flames of the fire he'd made to stay warm. His surroundings begin to become clearer now that the sun has risen higher, so he takes the time to drink the scenery in. Roach chooses that moment to nudge him then left out a short burst of air from her nostrils, which makes Geralt chuckle in amusement. He moves around to reach into the saddlebag; pulls out tidbits for Roach and feeds them to her. There's fruit left over for him to eat, even though it's not enough, but Geralt doesn't have time to worry about that. 

"If we leave now we'll make it to Kilmoor by noon."

Roach pays him no mind because of the food. 

"Hmm..." 

Geralt grabs his cloak from the saddle, before he gathers the rest of his belongings and prepares for the final trek to Kilmoor. He pulls the hood of the cloak over his head then hoists himself up onto the saddle, his hands holding the reins of the bridle loosely. With one last look at the view in front of him, Geralt directs Roach to the road nearby that will take him to his destination. He takes the chain back out of his pocket, runs his thumb over it once, then presses a light kiss against it. 

"Come on, Roach, let's go find our bard." 

His only wish is that Jaskier will forgive him.

* * *

The Pankratz's home hasn't changed from the last time Geralt was here; more trees than before but otherwise still the same. He remembers arriving here for the first time, meeting Jaskier's family and being welcomed in with no hesitation. They never cared that he was a witcher, all of them saw beyond that because Jaskier was happy. Their relationship wasn't fully cemented at the time; Geralt merely struggled with thoughts of his emotional attachment to Jaskier. It hadn't been a terrible thing, he simply lacked the knowledge of how to approach his feelings for the bard. 

_That_ , however, was quickly resolved when they took a trip down to the lake one night. Geralt took it upon himself to kiss Jaskier as they walked along the shore, with the moonlight cascading across the water. He thought that perhaps it would appeal to Jaskier's idea of _romance,_ as he did seem to lament about it often during their travels. Jaskier hadn't kissed back straight away, possibly due to surprise, but eventually he reciprocated, _eagerly._ Geralt thinks of the way Jaskier felt against him, how Jaskier's hands found commonplace on his waist, while he cupped Jaskier's face in his hands. He'd tilted Jaskier's head ever so slightly to get the angle right and was honoured with a content sigh. 

Everything seemed to fall into place afterward; Jaskier became a part of his life, _significantly._ They travelled together, slept under the stars... _made love_ under the stars. Geralt never forgets the featherlight touches or the guttural sounds of pleasure he coaxed out of Jaskier. Above or below him, Jaskier always looked beautiful and it's an image Geralt continued to savour even when they avoidably parted ways. 

_"We could stay here forever, Geralt."_

Geralt stops at the gate, dismounts then pushes the hood of his cloak down, as he guides Roach through the courtyard. There's an abundance of flowers beautiful and bright; unlike any Geralt's ever seen on his travels. He hears a soft humming come from the flower beds up ahead, a sound he recognises so well, yet one that fills him with worry. Jaskier's mother, Aleksandra, is kneeling down on the ground while she picks flowers to put into the basket beside her. Geralt's fingers tighten around the reins of Coach's bridle, before he ventures closer, casting a shadow over Aleksandra. 

"Jarek, how many times have I said to you that-" 

Aleksandra stares up at him, with her hand shielding her eyes from the sun over Geralt's shoulder.

"Geralt?" 

"Aleksandra," he replies, with a nervous smile.

"Oh Geralt, I foresaw that you would arrive today," Aleksandra sighs, as she stands and dusts off her dress. 

She doesn't appear to be angered by Geralt's presence, however, he can see something in her eyes that tells a different story. He feels ashamed to even be standing in front of her, crawling back to beg for forgiveness, when truthfully he doesn't deserve that at all. Aleksandra's brows are knitted together, before they soften and she reaches out to take Geralt's hand in hers. 

"You should go and see Jaskier," she says.

"I'm sorry for arriving unannounced," Geralt murmurs. 

Aleksandra squeezes his hand. 

"I'm not the one you should be saying this to." 

Geralt averts his gaze for a moment to look around the courtyard. 

"Is he here?" 

He receives a knowing smile in return. 

"I think you were already made aware of that." 

Geralt's throat bobs after he swallows thickly.

"Where is he?" 

"By the willow tree, he tends to spend most of his days there. 

A sickening sensation settles in the pit of Geralt's stomach. 

"Don't fret Wilk, he's well. But I sense the sadness that ails him," Aleksandra utters.

"I feared you would be furious with me. I-" Geralt trails off and drops his gaze from Aleksandra's once again. "...hurting Jaskier wasn't my intention," he adds. 

"Geralt, I _was_ furious, you said terrible things to my son and let him walk away thinking he was the bane of your existence. But I've had time to quell those emotions. I know you came here for a reason. And I believe you can mend what was broken," she encourages.

Geralt nods in understanding, then glances over at Roach, who is nibbling at some grass. 

"Here. Let me take her to the stables." 

Aleksandra takes the reins from Geralt, which he doesn't hesitate over, as he knows that Roach won't cause any problems. 

"Thank you." 

The remainder of his walk through the courtyard is peaceful, it allows him time to mull over what to say to Jaskier. Each step he takes makes his worries grow intolerable, but he tells himself _why_ he's doing this and the worries evidently ease off. He pauses by the next gate that leads out to the clearing and takes a few deep breaths, before stepping through. Geralt has flashes of memories in his head, of all the times he walked down this path, only he always had Jaskier with him. Those were simpler times where Geralt took time to have some freedom from witcher contracts or travel. Now, well, he would gladly relive all of that again with Jaskier at his side. 

He breathes in the fresh air; closes his eyes for a brief moment to savour it. It's better than smelling the vile stench of monsters he's slaughtered, or being in a tavern surrounded by drunkards who end up puking everywhere. The wind blows his hair over his shoulders, before Geralt slowly opens his eyes, catching just a glimpse of the lake through some trees. It's still as he remembers it, crystal clear and as picturesque as a painting. 

Geralt's head turns toward the sound of a familiar voice and the gentle strumming of a lute. Jaskier sits perched on a bench under the willow tree, lute resting atop his lap, while he stares out at the rippling water. There’s more scruff lining his jaw and it appears that his hair is a few inches longer, at least from what Geralt remembers. He stops a short distance away from Jaskier, his eyes locked on him as he listens intently. 

" _Oh, white wolf…"_

His heart skips a beat.

“ _Won’t you hear me call for you…_ ”

Geralt steps closer.

“ _Dear bard, my heart yearns for you night and day…_ ” 

The strumming stops abruptly as Jaskier breathes out a hitched gasp.

“Geralt?” Jaskier says.

He quickly turns himself to face Geralt, then rises to his feet so suddenly that he almost drops his lute. His hands catch it on instinct, before he places it down on the bench and walks over to stand in front of him. 

“Hello, Jaskier,” Geralt greets.

Jaskier looks him over from head to toe, seemingly in disbelief that he's _there,_ as he holds his hand up only to drop it shortly after. 

"Are you-I-" he pauses, blinking rapidly. 

Geralt brushes his fingers over Jaskier's cheek and rests them under his chin. 

"I'm here," he sighs freely. 

A punched out laugh _bursts_ out from deep within Jaskier's chest, before he throws his arms around Geralt, sending him stumbling back a bit. He holds onto him nonetheless, one arm wrapped securely around Jaskier, his face buried into Jaskier's soft hair. An overwhelming sense of euphoria washes over Geralt; tears fill his eyes too from uncontrollable emotions. He feels Jaskier's shoulders shake and then hears him choke out a sob, prompting Geralt to hold him tighter. 

"You bloody fool." 

It's not the reaction he was expecting, yet, eleven months was quite a long time for them to be apart. He knows they'll have to talk about _them_ , but for now...he'll savour this reunion they are having. Jaskier feels warm against his body, fitting perfectly as he always had, because Jaskier feels like _home._

"Jaskier…" 

Jaskier pulls back to cup Geralt's face and swipes his thumbs over the unused tears in the corner of Geralt's eyes. 

"Oh Geralt, I feared the worst." 

Geralt frowns.

"What are you talking about?" 

He slides his hand down to Jaskier's lower back, while Jaskier moves his hands down to Geralt's forearms, fingers tracing the lines on his clothing. 

"After the hunt at the mountains...I didn't know what to do, so I travelled and performed. I felt like I went back to my old life, it didn't feel _right._ But, where I travelled to, no one had seen you for some time. Witcher contracts were appearing here and there, but none were being taken by you. I searched for you, asked for you _everywhere_ , and yet not one person knew where Geralt of Rivia was," he explains. 

"Did you think I was dead?" Geralt mutters.

"It crossed my mind," Jaskier admits. 

Geralt draws back.

"Geralt, please. What was I supposed to think? It was as if you had disappeared completely. I came home because I needed a place that made me feel safe. Rumours don't get as far as Kilmoor, and it meant that I wouldn't have to hear of you all the time. I don't mean that in a horrible way, I simply wished not to hear all the stories they would manifest about you. Yes, the thought of you possibly being dead crossed my mind, your travels are dangerous ones. But I didn't lose hope for _one_ second." 

There's truth to what he says, anyone could make up a story and others would believe it. He's not angry with Jaskier, he's angry at himself for the fact that he put the only one who ever mattered to him through this. 

"Jaskier I-" he stops, body swaying suddenly from a wave of exhaustion. 

Jaskier steadies him with a gentle hand on his shoulder, the other placed against his chest, as he stares at Geralt with worry etched on his face.

"When was the last time you slept properly?" 

Geralt sighs tiredly.

"Too long." 

Jaskier shakes his head in disbelief. 

“I won’t discuss anything with you while you look like you can barely stand on your own two feet. We really must talk...but we’ll do that later.”

“No, we should-” Geralt quietens as he’s interrupted by Jaskier.

“ _Geralt,_ ” he warns, in a stern tone. 

Truthfully he _should_ rest; take Jaskier's advice and regain the energy that's been drained from him these past few months. Geralt believes that he shouldn't be rewarded for that luxury, he would rather talk with Jaskier to apologise for everything that happened. But Jaskier is as determined as anyone can get, he'll not allow Geralt to struggle through his words with a tired mind. Thus, Geralt's body sags in defeat, as he takes Jaskier's hands for a moment. 

"Can we stay here for a while?" he asks. 

Jaskier's hesitance shows clearly before he squeezes Geralt's hands.

"Of course. So long as you rest," Jaskier soothes. 

Out of pure impulse, Geralt leans in to brush a soft kiss on Jaskier's forehead, the thing that he loved most. He regrets it immediately and pulls back a little, only to feel Jaskier's arms circle around him yet another time. Geralt takes it as a sign that Jaskier doesn't mind, he's been without him for so long, so it's difficult to resist the urge to hold him. If there's one thing that Geralt cherished the most in their time together...it was having somebody to hold each night. Jaskier changed Geralt in regards to how he expresses emotions; it's something he's not short of these days. 

"Come with me." 

Jaskier leads Geralt over to the tree then sits down on the grass, before Geralt follows shortly after. Geralt has many fond memories of laying under this tree with Jaskier while he played the lute, or read to him until the skies turned dark. They used to have quiet moments to themselves under the tree, whispering sweet nothings and kissing each other breathless. He often found himself dreaming of the tree when he and Jaskier were no longer together; dreamt of them meeting there again. Now, the dream is real, and Geralt's never felt this relieved since the incident with the djinn. 

Geralt pays no mind that his cloak is still on, as he lays on his back, then settles his head on Jaskier's lap. Jaskier's deft fingers comb through his hair, exactly like he did in the past, which draws a low hum out of Geralt. His eyes slowly fall closed and Jaskier starts to quietly sing, his voice gentle but angelic. Geralt's hand finds Jaskier's other hand, before he holds it close to his chest, their fingers entwined together. Jaskier halts his singing to lean down close, his lips ghosting over Geralt's cheek. 

"Sleep, Geralt. I'll be here when you wake up." 

Minutes later, Geralt falls into a peaceful slumber. 

* * *

"Geralt? Wake up, darling." 

A warm hand touches his cheek; travels down to caress along his jaw. Geralt stirs gradually and opens his eyes, before he blinks repeatedly to clear his vision. Jaskier comes into view as he kneels on the floor, it's then that Geralt realises he's in a warm, plush bed. The room is beautifully decorated with furnishings that ooze with Jaskier's personality, some new and some _very_ familiar. Geralt missed being in this room, it's where he spent many months feeling happy and safe, with Jaskier right beside him. He wants to let his mind wander to other thoughts of what transpired in this room, but knows well enough that it wouldn't be ideal. 

Geralt focuses his attention on Jaskier; revels in the way the candlelight catches on Jaskier's tender blue eyes. He's caught off guard by how much he's longed to have this back, to feel a sense of _belonging_. Jaskier trails his hand down to a scar on Geralt's bare shoulder, it's new, plus fairly ugly to look at. Geralt's gotten a few of those in the months he's travelled on his own, it seems that it wasn't only his happiness that was done, but his fighting spirit too. With Jaskier, it added something extra to his adventures, but without him it became incredibly dull. 

"A kikimora. And this one-" Geralt pauses, as he points to one across his bicep. "...a fight in a tavern," he adds. 

Jaskier chuckles and props his chin up on his hand with a slight smile tugging at his mouth. 

"It seems like you had quite the ordeal." 

Geralt drops his gaze, before he strokes his fingers over Jaskier's knuckles. 

"You could say that." 

Jaskier's smile falters marginally. 

"What's troubling you?" he questions. 

"I thought we were discussing this later." 

"Well, it is night now, Geralt," Jaskier replies.

Geralt peers over his shoulder to glance out the open door, where there's a perfect view of the lake and the _moon_. He turns back with a sigh, forces back a yawn, then leans up on his elbows.

" _Ah,_ fuck, did I sleep for that long?" he inquires. 

"Yes. I think you needed it. Also, do you have _any_ idea how tiresome it is to get your gear off so you were comfortable in bed when you're all heavy and exhausted?" 

He shoots Jaskier a pointed look, before he tilts his head with a smirk.

"From what I remember, you didn't have any problems with it before," Geralt says.

Silence follows and Geralt thinks he may have overstepped with his statement. They aren't exactly out of the woods yet after so much time apart. However, Jaskier smirks back at him, albeit shyly, but he doesn't utter a single word either. It's enough to settle the panic that twists in Geralt's gut, until he realises it's not because of that, he's well… _starving_. Jaskier scoffs amusedly at him and stands up, while Geralt follows each of his movements. 

"Perhaps our discussion must happen once you're fed. Have you eaten much?" 

Geralt watches intently as Jaskier walks over to a pile of folded garments, then disappears behind a wooden partition. The tunic he was wearing gets tossed over the top of it; trousers follow close behind. He's not teasing Geralt, this much he's aware of, because it is Jaskier's room after all. But Geralt swallows nonetheless, throat bobbing heavily, while he tries to deter how he's feeling. 

"Darling?" 

That's the second time Jaskier's called him that since he arrived here, though he wonders if it's mostly a force of habit. 

"You've called me that twice since I got here." 

"Geralt, we were together for some time. It isn't easily forgotten," Jaskier sighs. 

"Hmm…" 

"Do you not enjoy it? I can stop, if you like?" he asks.

Geralt swings his legs over the side of the bed while he scrubs his hands over his face. 

"No. I missed hearing it," he admits, his voice still rough with sleep. 

Jaskier steps out from behind the partition and Geralt glances over, only to have his breath catch in his throat. Geralt's not sure what exactly Jaskier is wearing, however it's beautiful, as is Jaskier. The sleeves stop at his elbows, but fan out somewhat, which draws his attention to the way the back cascades down to Jaskier's ankles. If he were to move, it would flow with him in the manner that a cloak does. It's wonderfully crafted and delicately embroidered with—

"Wolves?" Geralt murmurs. 

He watches Jaskier clench his hands together, before he starts pacing, which he has a tendency to do when he feels nervous.

"White wolves. It arrived days after we left for the mountain hunt. I was going to wear it when we returned, as a surprise but…we know how that turned out." 

Geralt presses his mouth into a thin line. 

"It's beautiful, Jaskier. As is the one wearing it." 

Jaskier's cheeks flush as Geralt gestures for him to come closer.

"Thank you, Geralt." 

Geralt kisses the back of Jaskier's hand, then glances up at him. There's so many things he wants to say to him, but they agreed to speak _later._ And Geralt's not about to break that agreement, he can manage to wait a little longer. 

"I suppose we shouldn't keep your family waiting." 

Jaskier grins. 

"No, we shouldn't. I've laid out some clothes for you. I'll be waiting out in the hall," he replies. 

After Jaskier leaves, Geralt dresses quickly so that he doesn't delay. What Jaskier picked out for him is comfortable, Geralt generally hates anything being too _formal_. But what he's got is a balance of both, so long as it doesn't itch or fit too snug. In fact, everything is a perfect fit for him and Geralt would like to know who the tailor is. He steals a glance in the mirror and thinks it will satisfy the Pankratz tradition of dressing up for a meal. It goes far beyond that though, Aleksandra was welcoming as always, but Geralt's unsure of the others. 

He breathes deeply to calm himself, before he reaches for the door then swings it open. Jaskier spins around to face him and Geralt _almost_ smiles at the wide eyed look he gets in return, it's amusing to say the least. He waits for Jaskier to say something; he gets Jaskier's hand on him instead. Nimble fingers trace over swirls of gold along the sleeves and Geralt allows him to, while he holds his gaze with Jaskier's. The thought of kissing him tempts Geralt for a third time, but he knows better, as Jaskier makes it obvious when he'd like something. 

"You look wonderful," he comments. 

"It's comfortable," Geralt points out.

He runs his hand down Jaskier's arm and stops at his hand, where their fingers brush then entwine together. 

"Don't fret, my parents were disappointed in you, but they're also glad you're back. Halina doesn't really understand all of this. Jakub on the other hand, you might have to try harder, he's well aware of what happened. So...you're not _exactly_ his favourite person right now," Jaskier explains. 

Geralt thought as much, he and Jakub had formed a special friendship from the moment they first met. He can't begin to imagine what Jakub thinks of him now, given that he and Jaskier have been joined at the hip since they were children. Jakub's a lot younger than Jaskier, but he's intelligent, he'll likely piece everything together as soon as he sees Geralt. It puts Geralt on edge, he barely thought of the consequences his absence would have on the people Jaskier cares most for. He's willing to do anything to salvage this, as it was yet another thing that Jaskier had taught him to do when they were together. 

"Jakub's the one I'm worried about," he sighs. 

Jaskier loops his arm through Geralt's before they walk down the hall together. 

"Geralt if there's anyone who can mend a sour relationship with him, it'd be you. He's a little stubborn, like you. Has a temper like you too." 

Geralt frowns. 

"I don't have a-" 

Jaskier raises an eyebrow at the rise in his voice and Geralt huffs out a breath.

"No, you're right..."

He feels Jaskier's hand squeeze his arm reassuringly.

"Well, if it's any consolation, your temper did settle over time." 

"I have you to thank for that," Geralt states.

"I'm excellent at that, aren't I?" Jaskier chimes.

The way Jaskier smiles at him ignites a warm sensation in his chest, similar to how casting _Igni_ feels, only stronger. Geralt wholeheartedly thinks he doesn't deserve those smiles, yet he's longed to see them again, to cherish them. Jaskier takes him down a flight of stairs to the dining room, the place where he spent having many meals in the past. It's changed a lot in regards to space, Geralt figures that Jaskier's father's business selling fine jewellery must have soared lately. Jaskier's family aren't nobility, their house is lavish, but they give a lot back to those in need throughout Kilmoor. 

"Geralt!" 

Halina rushes at Geralt and he manages to scoop her up in his arms quickly, as she locks her arms around his neck tightly. Geralt's been wrapped around Halina's finger since they first met; she instantly took a shine to Geralt with his 'cat-like eyes' and his ashen hair.

"Hello, little dove," he whispers.

Jaskier smiles at him fondly, the affection clear in his eyes, before he looks over at his brother. Geralt elicits a soft sigh as he lowers Halina back onto her feet, then directs his attention to Jakub, who stares at the table.

"Jakub." 

Jakub's eyes don't meet his. 

"Witcher," he answers, with a bit of fire to his tone. 

It's as good as he will get, Geralt's not about to force Jakub to interact with him, but he will pick a better time for them to talk. Jaskier simply rolls his eyes and ruffles Jakub's hair, which earns him a hint of a smile in return. Geralt can live with the fact that Jakub may hate him, so he's reassured to see that there's no tension between the siblings. Truthfully, he's glad that they're all in good spirits. Having never had a proper family of his own, Geralt feels like he fits fairly well into this one. 

"Geralt, it's nice to see you again." 

Geralt became so caught up in his thoughts that he failed to miss Jaskier's father, Jarek, sidle up to his side. 

"Thank you for allowing me to stay." 

Jarek smiles kindly and passes a goblet filled with mead to him.

"I'm not an overly forgiving man, Geralt. Jaskier was heartbroken when he returned to us. I've never heard him be so quiet in all my life, for me as a father it was a horrible thing to witness. He would sit by the tree often and play his lute most days, other days he would walk along the shore by himself. Jaskier came to me in my workshop one night, explained everything that happened and then cried on my shoulder for a while." 

Geralt swallows down the sip of mead he just had with great difficulty. 

"In saying that, I told him that it's his choice on what he did from then onward. He chose to wait, I think my son believed that you would reappear some day. I could tell by the look in his eyes that you meant a great deal to him. Sometimes it reminds me of when I almost lost my beloved Aleksandra," Jarek mutters. 

He looks over at Aleksandra intently, for a moment, before he looks back at Geralt.

“It was when we were much younger, long before Jaskier was born. I knew she was the love of my life but I did something incredibly stupid and I paid the consequences for it. I didn’t deserve Aleksandra, she was such a wise woman, and still is. She said I was a fool and I couldn’t have agreed more with her. Now, here we are, three amazing children and a lovely home later,” he adds.

“Sounds almost like a dream,” Geralt replies.

A hum follows in response.

“A dream that became a reality. You’ve missed Jaskier, I can tell. And I know that if you didn’t care about my lad then you wouldn’t be here. You stare at him with such fondness in your eyes, even when he’s not looking back.”

Geralt tilts his head up, meets Jaskier's eyes across the room and watches Jaskier's charming smile spread across his face. His heart races; he's so deeply in love with Jaskier it's ridiculous. If someone had said to him many years ago that he would find someone to love in his life, he would have laughed at the thought. Now it's become all too apparent that he can't live without Jaskier by his side. 

"I said things to Jaskier that I shouldn't have, and I regret causing him hurt because of it. My emotions took over, by then it was too late to reverse it. Jaskier didn't deserve it, I'm sorry that you had to see him that way. I may be seeking forgiveness from him, but from your family...all I'm begging for is a second chance," he utters.

"I didn't know witchers begged." 

Geralt startles himself with a laugh, which draws the attention of everyone else in the room, with Jaskier looking more than pleased. Jarek claps his hand on Geralt's shoulder in a firm grip, as the corners of his eyes crinkle when he chuckles in delight. 

"It's wonderful to have you back," he says earnestly. 

Suddenly, his attention is drawn to Jaskier, who quietly interrupts their conversation with a hand on his arm. 

"I would hate to break up this friendly conversation, but we are going to eat now," he interjects.

"Thank you, Jaskier," Jarek replies, as he glances at Geralt. "Remember what we talked about," he continues, before he saunters off. 

Jaskier brow furrows.

"Nothing negative, I hope." 

Geralt shakes his head slowly. 

"Everything is fine." 

Jaskier's expression on his face seems uncertain, but it gets quickly shaken off.

"Shall we then?" 

Dinner turns out to be a time full of laughter; all other troubles forgotten for a while. Geralt forgot how much he enjoys being surrounded by the Pankratz family, even Jakub talks to him a few times, despite everything. They sit for what feels like hours, feasting and talking about travel or simple, mundane subjects. During the chatter, Geralt feels Jaskier's hand on his knee several times, with an occasional squeeze here and there. At some point, Geralt finds himself leaning into Jaskier, which makes their shoulders brush ever so slightly. It continues like that for the rest of the meal, this back and forth of little touches, ones Geralt has missed sharing. 

Soon, the domesticity starts to dwindle, Halina has since fallen asleep at the table and Jakub excused himself fifteen minutes ago. Geralt knows once everyone else departs that Jaskier will want that _talk_ they have planned. To say he's worried would be a complete understatement. Jaskier has been partial to some affection throughout the night, thus, it does give Geralt some sense of hope. They _can_ rekindle all those moments they've lost over the past eleven months, regardless of what it takes. Geralt has repeatedly told himself he'd go to hell and back for Jaskier, with no hesitation nor regrets. 

"Geralt? Darling, are you alright?" Jaskier asks. 

Geralt drags himself out of his daze to only himself and Jaskier at the table. He thinks he may have wished everyone a good night's rest, even for that he can't be certain. For the most part, he's glad he got to join Jaskier's family for dinner again, but he was still distracted nonetheless. 

"There's a lot on my mind." 

Jaskier sighs deeply.

"I think we best have that talk now," he suggests. 

Without another word, Geralt stands and grabs the leftover wine bottle on the table. Jaskier follows shortly after, with the goblets they were using in his hands, as he sticks close to Geralt's side. Geralt leads them out to another section of the garden, which puts them a safe distance away from the house. He's unsure if the conversation will get heated or not, however, it's more than likely given all the time they've been apart. The last thing Geralt wants is to wake everyone while he and Jaskier talk, plus the garden seems fairly peaceful at night. 

Geralt stops by a stone bench then proceeds to pour out some wine, before he hands a goblet back to Jaskier. He sits down on the bench, but Jaskier stays standing, as he focuses his attention on swirling the wine in the goblet. For a moment, Geralt watches him pace slowly like he's deep in thought, before he eventually stops. Jaskier taps his fingers against the goblet, then looks up to stare back at Geralt and offers him a weak smile. 

"I'm sorry, Jaskier, for everything. What I said to you on the mountain was untrue. I shouldn't have blamed you for my misfortune, that was all _me,_ " he confesses.

"Then why did you shout at me? Why was I the victim of your blame game?" 

"I was angry," Geralt says. 

"So was I! No, in fact, I wasn't angry, I was _distraught!_ There you were, standing on that mountain with so much fury in your eyes and venom in your words, blaming _me_ for all the shit we went through!"

Geralt averts his gaze as Jaskier takes a deep breath to calm himself. 

"You're a witcher, Geralt. Danger follows you everywhere. The only time it never followed was when you were here, where we were safe." 

He moves his gaze over to Jaskier once more.

"You don't think I know that? All I ever wanted was for you to be safe! I almost lost you to that fucking djinn!" 

"Oh right, because that was obviously my fault. I'm sorry for using up all those wishes!" Jaskier exclaims.

"You weren't supposed to have those wishes, that's why it happened! Jaskier, you nearly died!" 

"At least it would have hurt less than you breaking my fucking heart!" he shouts, around a choked sob.

His watery eyes widen a fraction, before Jaskier covers his mouth with his hand, then quickly turns away from him. Geralt feels his stomach twist in knots and his eyes sting with unshed tears. It never was going to be an easy reunion, but it's all hitting him at once of just how much he's hurt Jaskier. If there was a chance that he could take it all back, he would take it, yet there would be no learning from his mistakes. Jaskier doesn't deserve to live with himself, thinking that Geralt despises his very existence, which couldn't be any further from the truth. The wine then becomes an afterthought, as Geralt leaves it behind on the bench and walks over to Jaskier. 

"My biggest flaw is not realising when these mistakes are my own, and not the cause of someone else. Sometimes I-" Geralt pauses, before he looks up at the sky above them. "...sometimes I don't notice what's important to me until it's already lost," he adds. 

"You made it seem like I was a burden in your life…" 

Geralt gently grabs Jaskier's arm, turning him around to face him, before he cups Jaskier's face in his hands. 

"The only burden would be not having you in my life. Jaskier, it doesn’t have any meaning without you in it. I came back not only because I missed you when I travelled, but because I can’t fucking live without you." 

Jaskier's eyes well with fresh tears as he rests his hands over Geralt's and strokes his fingers over Geralt’s. 

"I had to find my own way back off that mountain, I didn’t have you, I didn’t have anybody. And yet I kept searching for you regardless. But it was as if you had disappeared completely. Maybe we got ourselves into strife once too often, though I felt like that was ours to deal with _together._ But then you told me you’d be blessed if I was gone. What was I supposed to think? Did you _ever_ think to follow me?”

Geralt presses his forehead against Jaskier’s, before he closes his eyes, which allows an unshed tear to slide down his cheek.

“Everyday I regret letting you walk away. I couldn’t sleep, my dreams were always about you, about that day. Emotions were never something I comprehended until I met you. Everything I’ve been feeling, it’s all related to you, the guilt, the _yearning_ to see you again.”

“Geralt…” Jaskier whispers.

“I’m not asking to go back to the way we were. I hurt you and you have every right to be furious with me. If you want me to leave, I will, I only want you to be happy. But, if there’s any way that we can fix this I-” Geralt stops suddenly, and breathes out shakily. 

Jaskier moves one of his hands to cup Geralt’s face as he wipes away the tear tracks on his cheek. 

“I can’t deny that I haven’t missed you terribly. You mean more to me than you likely know, Geralt. When I came home I had so much time to be with my thoughts and all I kept thinking about was us. You could have simply left my life entirely after we parted ways. Instead you’re here. I think that says a lot about you,” he hums.

Geralt lightly bumps his nose against Jaskier’s, then tilts his head to kiss him on the forehead. 

“It was wrong to pin my frustration on you. Jaskier, you deserve better,” he mumbles.

Jaskier chuckles faintly, drops his hands down to Geralt’s shoulders, then leans in closer to Geralt’s body.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Geralt. I could never get anyone quite like you. No one's as stubborn as a mule like you." 

Geralt's eyes narrow a fraction.

"Hey now…" 

Jaskier smirks.

"I wasn't finished. No one's as oddly charming as you, what with that entire brooding manner you had when we first met." 

Geralt tilts his head and raises a brow in response.

"Anything else?" 

He hears Jaskier laugh wetly as he looks away, but Geralt grabs Jaskier's attention with his eyes and coaxes him into making eye contact with him again. Jaskier's mouth trembles slightly as he tries to form words, blue eyes glistening, while tear tracks leave their mark on his face. 

"No one cares as much as you do. I feel that under all the rugged exterior you give off, _I_ got to know who you truly are during our time together. Life could throw many obstacles at us, but I will always choose you, I will always come back to you," Jaskier proclaims.

Adoration rushes through Geralt, before he embraces Jaskier; keeps their bodies close for warmth in the cold night air. 

"I missed you, dear heart," Geralt breathes out. 

Jaskier sighs happily and skims a fleeting kiss on Geralt's cheek.

"I missed you too, my love," he says, as he parts from the embrace. 

Geralt takes Jaskier's hand while they walk back to the bench together; lets go in favour of putting his arm around Jaskier shortly after. Jaskier's head comes to rest on his shoulder, while his hand slides over to Geralt's thigh and remains there. Geralt feels content to stay like this, if they could stay like this forever, he surely would indulge in it. For now, he'll do anything, so long as Jaskier is happy. 

"Should we go to bed?" he questions. 

Jaskier hums low in his throat, but presses further against Geralt. 

"Let's stay a while, darling…" 

Geralt naturally agrees. 

* * *

A few days pass by rapidly; in that time Geralt and Jaskier continue to piece their relationship back together. Geralt goes into Kilmoor whenever Jaskier performs there, not only as support, but to keep other people in their place. There are often times where Jaskier will gain some unwanted attention, to which Geralt steps in to. For the most part, he thinks Jaskier thrives off of him being protective, yet knows that he appreciates it every time it occurs. Geralt doesn't mind it, seeing others being so bold toward the man he loves does render him jealous sometimes. 

Nearly everyone knows about Geralt now, apart from his past. Geralt tries to keep that between himself, Jaskier and others from his past endeavours. All they know is that he's a witcher, as well as Jaskier's _significant other_. A lot of patrons in the tavern love to speculate, those are the ones Geralt pays no mind to, unless they make it his business. Like the third time he travelled to the tavern, where someone made crude remarks about Jaskier and a brawl ensued. Geralt left the tavern with a few minor injuries, but Jaskier undoubtedly thanked him for it later. 

On the days that Jaskier has spare time, they spend their time at the house and go for walks along the shore of the lake. Most nights, Geralt and Jaskier will sit out in the field to stargaze or Jaskier plays his lute while Geralt listens. He settles back into the domestic side of life fairly quick; a life he only ever longs to have with Jaskier. When they lay in bed at night, Jaskier is always the one to fall asleep first, which leaves Geralt with a peaceful moment to watch him. It's a time where Geralt can whisper things to him and treasure the way Jaskier smiles in his sleep. 

Then there are also the days, like today, that involve Jaskier's siblings being present. They're on their way to pick fruit in the woods; Jaskier on Roach with Geralt and Halina on another with Jakub. Jaskier's back is pressed against Geralt's chest, one arm wrapped around Jaskier's waist, while he holds Roach's reins with his free hand. He breathes in deeply, before he leans in closer and tightens his grip on Jaskier's waist. 

"You smell good." 

" _Geralt,_ " Jaskier groans. 

"What?" 

"We have company," he states.

Geralt huffs under his breath. 

"Didn't realise that meant I couldn't compliment you," he replies.

Jaskier smooths his hand over Geralt's that rests on his hip.

"As much as I encourage it...there is a time and place for that, my love." 

"You missed this, admit it," Geralt retorts.

"Well, it was rather lonely," Jaskier answers.

Geralt lets out a pleased noise.

"Travelling without you was lonely too." 

He feels Jaskier's body move on him when he scoffs. 

"Oh, if I recall, the first time we ever travelled I had to _walk_ beside you." 

An amused grin graces Geralt's face.

"You mean when we first met and I found you incredibly annoying? Or the time I said your singing was like ordering a pie and finding it has no filling?" 

Jaskier peers over his shoulder at him, as the corner of his mouth quirks up.

"And now?" 

"Hmm," Geralt murmurs, before he rests his chin on Jaskier's shoulder. "Like ordering a pie and finding it has filling," he adds. 

"Honestly?" Jaskier laughs. 

Geralt shrugs languidly.

"You wanted the truth, dear heart." 

They fall silent when they arrive at the clearing; abundant with fruit trees and flowers. Geralt slows Roach to a complete stop, then dismounts, before he turns back to offer his hand to Jaskier. 

“Look at you, being gentlemanly.”

Geralt sighs exasperatedly as Jaskier takes his hand. 

“Are you going to mock me for the rest of the day?”

Jaskier’s feet touch the grass with a soft _thump_ when Geralt helps him down from Roach.

“I don’t know, I haven’t decided yet.”

Geralt huffs out a throaty grunt and lightly slaps his hand across Jaskier’s arse, prompting a yelp of shock from him. 

“Geralt!” Jaskier yells.

A peel of laughter rises from deep within Geralt’s chest as he turns to grab their supplies from the saddlebags, only for it to get cut off with a hiss when Jaskier smacks his arse in retaliation. He glances behind him to see Jaskier looking particularly smug, but tries to feign innocence all the same. Geralt moves away from Roach, squares his shoulders, then shifts around to face his lover. Jaskier stares at him before he takes a few steps back; his eyes filled with glee and curiosity at the same time. 

“What on earth are you doing?” he asks.

Geralt remains quiet before he lunges forward and grabs Jaskier’s arm to drag him close, yet as expected, Jaskier bursts into fits of laughter about it. 

“You’re as troublesome as you always were,” he says, as his breath ghosts over Jaskier’s lips.

Jaskier gawks at him while Geralt slides his hand down the length of his back.

“That’s rather rude, don’t you think?”

The temptation to kiss Jaskier is positively inviting, until the moment is disrupted when Jakub clears his throat. Jaskier’s cheeks flush a little with embarrassment as he and Geralt part, before he points an accusing finger at him, mostly in jest.

“ _You..._ are a terrible influence.”

“May we go and pick fruit now?” Halina interjects.

Geralt crouches down so that he is eye level with Halina.

“You can. But don’t wander too far away from us.”

“Alright uncle Geralt, we'll be careful!” she promises, before she runs off to the trees with Jakub close behind her.

Jaskier’s hand falls on Geralt’s shoulder.

“She adores you,” he says.

Geralt gets back to his feet with a small smile on his face.

“I know.”

Dusk is beginning to set in, which casts a bright glow around the clearing as the sun starts to set. Geralt admires it intently while he unpacks the saddlebags, then grabs one of the baskets Aleksandra loaned to him. Jaskier is already by one of the trees, picking multiple apples before tossing them all into his basket. He stops in his tracks to stare at Jaskier, at how peaceful and content he looks. It's the moments like these that Geralt wonders how he got so lucky to have someone as amazing as Jaskier in his life. 

Jaskier catches him staring, but he beams at him, and it's the most beautiful sight Geralt's ever seen. Well, anytime Jaskier smiles is a sight to see, however it's usually the ones which catch Geralt off guard that truly manifest the love he has for him. Lately, he's had the notion to tell Jaskier that he loves him, although, he's not sure when the _right_ time for that would be. Geralt doesn't want it to be planned, he would rather it happen naturally and without a second thought. Which is why he gets overly livid with himself whenever it crosses his mind. 

"Are you going to help pick apples or not, darling?" Jaskier calls. 

"I was admiring the view," Geralt answers. 

Jaskier scoffs loudly.

"Of course you were," he drawls.

Geralt meanders over to Jaskier before he places the basket down. 

"And we're finally alone now," he adds.

"But you enjoy spending time with my brother and sister." 

It's quite true, but Geralt does cherish the times where it's just the two of them. 

"I do, your family is great Jaskier, but I love the times where it's only us the most." 

Jaskier's eyes soften as he reaches out to touch Geralt's hand. 

"Geralt, you truly are a wordsmith and know how to make a man like myself swoon a little." 

Geralt raises an eyebrow. 

"Do I hint sarcasm in your tone, _bard?_ " 

"Do you, _witcher?_ " Jaskier retorts. 

"I think I have a remedy for that," Geralt offers.

Jaskier moves into Geralt's personal space.

"I'm listening…" 

Geralt leans in to kiss Jaskier when he abruptly stops midway, eyes narrowed, as he jerks his head to the side. 

"Geralt?" 

"Something's here...monsters," he replies. 

Jaskier's eyes go wide.

" _What!_ What kind?" he asks, panicked.

A guttural snarl echoes through the woods before Geralt rushes back to Roach. 

" _Shit._ "

"Tell me what's happening!" Jaskier shouts.

Geralt hurriedly rummages through a saddlebag, pulls out a vial filled with a potion, then swallows it down. He groans at the vile taste, before he grabs his silver sword, which he almost contemplated not bringing. 

"Jaskier, you need to stay here with the horses." 

Jaskier skids to a halt in front of Gerelt and pushes a hand against his chest.

"Absolutely not! What about my-" 

Geralt knows the potion has taken effect, his eyes now swimming in seas of black and his complexion pale with thin veins of black spread out over it. Jaskier drops his hand, but Geralt takes it in a vice grip to show him that he's still... _him._

"Do you trust me?" he questions, his voice hoarse.

"Yes."

"Then stay _._ Ghouls aren't known for coming out so early to hunt, nor do they rarely go for live humans. It's corpses they want," Geralt says.

"But we aren't-" Jaskier pauses.

"Listen to me, Jaskier! We will be corpses if I don't kill them. They will fucking rip us to pieces. They're hungry and when they need to quench that hunger, they're dangerous. I'm begging you to _stay_ here." 

Jaskier nods and lets go of Geralt's hand. 

"Please be careful…" he pleads.

The snarls grow louder as Geralt circles around the clearing and grips his sword tighter. His nostrils flare at the overwhelming stench of death from the ghouls, which only indicates that they're closer than he first thought. 

" _Ugh_ , that smell…" 

Suddenly, Geralt feels the ground move beneath his feet and barely gets time to react when a ghoul bursts through the soil. Its screech pierces through the air, before Geralt slices his sword through the ghoul's neck to kill it. In seconds, several other ghouls emerge from the woods, with one immediately clocking Jaskier's presence. Geralt rushes forward, which puts himself between the ghoul and Jaskier, as it leaps toward him. An involuntary grunt gets punched out of Geralt when he brings his sword down; stabs it through until the ghoul howls in agony and collapses on the ground. However, there's no time to recover before more ghouls surround them, ultimately putting Jaskier at risk. 

"Don't touch him!" he bellows. 

Throwing himself into the fray; Geralt takes several ghouls out at once. He gets the upper hand, cuts them down like they're nothing, despite being highly dangerous. Geralt's senses spike every time he makes a kill, he listens, watches and smells each ghoul that approaches. Evidently, he thinks he'll keep the upper hand, that is...until one last ghoul flanks him from the side.

"Geralt!" 

His sword gets knocked from his hands, leaving him to fight bare handed as the ghoul latches on. It shrieks right into his face while Geralt tries to wrestle it free, teeth gnashing close to his exposed neck. He struggles against its unexpected strength, ends up falling to the grass on his back and curses when he feels the ghoul's teeth catch on his sleeve. 

"Get away from him you bloody beast!" 

The ghoul hardly has time to shriek before it's head gets lopped off and blood splatters all over Geralt's clothing. His chest heaves heavily before he shoves the ghoul's headless body off of him so he can sit upright. Jaskier stands above him as he breathes rapidly, with Geralt's sword in his hand, which is stained with ghoul's blood.

"Oh my _god…_ " Jaskier gasps.

"Jaskier," Geralt whispers. 

Jaskier throws the sword away and drops by Geralt's side. 

"Christ, are you alright?" he asks.

Geralt glances down at his ripped sleeve, he's unscathed, thankfully. But that's not even on his mind, Jaskier just saved him from a possible early grave, he saved his _life_. 

"My love?" 

Geralt grabs the front of Jaskier's tunic, yanks him forward, then looks him dead in the eye.

"Stop talking..." he mutters, before he kisses Jaskier passionately.

Jaskier's hands scramble for purchase, as his fingers eventually thread through Geralt's hair and he reciprocates the kiss. Geralt pulls Jaskier into his lap, lowers his hands down to Jaskier's thighs, then squeezes them gently. A breathy sigh draws itself out of Jaskier, causing them to part briefly, before he surges forward for more. Geralt's tongue swipes over Jaskier's bottom lip; presses inside just a tad. It startles a faint moan out of Jaskier, who tightens his grip on Geralt's hair and kisses him deeper. 

"Eww." 

They pull away from each other, eyes wide in surprise, as they look over at where Jakub and Halina have emerged from the woods. Neither of them are looking at Geralt or Jaskier, but at the dead ghouls scattered around the grass. Jaskier shifts off of Geralt's lap before he straightens his tunic and clears his throat. Geralt steals a glance at Jaskier then averts his gaze, unable to hide the smirk forming on his face. Jaskier's cheeks are flushed again, rightfully so, a good fight against monsters does seem to make the adrenaline flow. 

"Did we miss something?" Jakub inquires.

Geralt and Jaskier share some unspoken words with each other, as if they know they won't escape retelling the event that unfolded. Jaskier then turns back to his siblings, seeming slightly sheepish, while Geralt looks at him proudly. 

"Well, it's a long story..." 

* * *

Geralt sinks into the steaming water of the bath with a long, drawn out sigh of satisfaction. It was Jaskier’s idea to do this; to relax after their ordeal only hours ago. Everyone else has since gone to bed, but Geralt still feels that he’s not quite relaxed enough to rest yet, hence the idea of a bath. It’s a lovely big bath, situated behind a velvet curtain in Jaskier’s room, and it’s also big enough for two. However, Jaskier seems to have other plans up his sleeve, given that he’s hidden behind the all too familiar wooden partition. 

“Aren’t you going to join me?” Geralt asks, as he looks over at the partition. 

“Patience, my love.”

Geralt scoffs tiredly.

“You know I don’t do well with patience,” he says.

Jaskier laughs sweetly.

“Oh? I think you do, you did wait _all_ that time to kiss me.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of Geralt’s mouth, before he leans back against the bath, then props his arms up on the sides of it.

“Well...you did kill a ghoul and save my life.”

“Hm, did that fire you up, Geralt?” Jaskier replies.

Geralt chooses that moment to look over at Jaskier. 

“It might ha-”

He stops short as the sly smirk on his face falls and his eyes roam over Jaskier’s robe, which sits slightly above his knees.

“What are you—I mean— _ah fuck-”_ he swears.

Jaskier grins at the fact that he’s rendered him speechless.

“It’s new, do you like it?” he questions.

“Yes,” Geralt breathes out, softly.

His eyes darken when he drinks every part of Jaskier in with his intense gaze, Jaskier meets that gaze with an equally intense one of his own. It doesn’t matter when or where Geralt is with him, but Jaskier always continues to surprise him regardless. He’s undoubtedly alluring, and the dark green silk brings out his eyes, which Geralt appears to mull over several times. Jaskier walks away from the partition to an alcove, where an array of herbs and flowers are placed, and where the aromas disperse at once. Geralt simply admires Jaskier intently like he’s a work of art. 

“I thought you might.”

Geralt tilts his head.

“I have a feeling it would look better elsewhere.”

Jaskier sighs exasperatedly before he swivels around and tosses some flowers into the bath water.

“You’re impossible.”

A flicker of mischief flashes in Geralt’s eyes as he leans forward to smell the flowers that float in front of him.

“Lavender?”

“It’ll help you sleep,” Jaskier says. “I wouldn’t want you to be restless,” he adds. 

He smiles at Jaskier fondly then holds his hand out to him.

“I truly don’t deserve you, dear heart.”

Jaskier throws a few sprigs of rosemary into the water on his way over to Geralt, before he kneels beside the bath and places his hand in Geralt’s. He stares into Jaskier’s eyes; indulges in the way that they speak more emotion than words do. The fluttering sensation he experiences makes Geralt feel elated and full of an extreme amount of unconditional love for the bard. Geralt never knew what love was until he met Jaskier, he hardly knew most of the new feelings he gains whenever he’s around him. There are many times he says to himself that Jaskier’s changed his outlook on all things good in the world. Despite the flaws Geralt may have, as many people do, Jaskier still remains by his side. 

“My god, your eyes are absolutely stunning, darling.”

Jaskier’s voice is barely a whisper as he pushes some strands of ashen hair away from his face and caresses his thumb along Geralt’s jaw. 

“How did I get so fortunate?”

Geralt closes his eyes gradually and blindly finds Jaskier’s lips for a fervent kiss, as his fingers gently wrap around Jaskier’s hand. Jaskier slides his other hand down to Geralt’s bare shoulder, traces the outline of a few of his scars, then parts from the kiss. They press their foreheads together, slightly breathless, while Geralt brushes his thumb across Jaskier’s bottom lip.

“I love you, Jaskier,” he confesses, all of a sudden. 

The silence he gets in return is deafening until Jaskier draws back with a stunned expression on his face. 

“I love you too, Geralt,” Jaskier avows. 

He lets out an ecstatic chuckle and it stirs a jubilant one out of Geralt, as the realisation of their confessions settles in around them. They kiss fervently, multiple times, before they break apart for much needed air yet again. 

“For months I wanted to tell you, but we-” Geralt chokes and sets his jaw tight at the bitter memory.

“My love, it’s alright...we’re here now,” he soothes. 

Geralt sighs shakily.

“I can’t lose you again.”

Jaskier leans into Geralt to kiss his forehead, much like the way Geralt would do to him.

“You won’t, I _promise_ you that.”

Geralt believes his every word and how he solely wants to have Jaskier close to him. 

“Will you join me now?”

No other words are spoken as Geralt slips his hand under Jaskier’s robe and pushes it down over his shoulder. He leaves a trail of tender kisses over Jaskier’s exposed skin, right up to his jawline, which makes a subtle moan escape from him. The robe falls to the floor when Geralt unties the sash around it, before he guides Jaskier over the edge of the bath and into his lap. Jaskier straddles his thighs, seats himself comfortably there, while Geralt skims his hands up the length of Jaskier’s back. 

“What are you thinking about?”

Geralt’s head tilts marginally to the right.

“How beautiful you are,” he says, candidly. 

Jaskier smiles back at him affectionately. 

“Darling, I’d say you’re deeply in love with me with all of these sweet things you say to me,” he jests. 

Although, by the way Geralt looks at him like he’s the most _remarkable_ man in the world, he’d most likely be right.

“ _Madly,_ ” Geralt hums. 

“Oh, Geralt...I’m so glad you’re back,” Jaskier whispers, lovingly.

They share another kiss, but it feels so much more intimate this time with their bodies flush against each other and hands that roam _everywhere_. Shortly after, Jaskier decides to move around, until he situates himself with his back to Geralt. Together, they relax into the warm water as Jaskier rests his head back on Geralt’s chest and gets a kiss on the cheek in return. Geralt then runs his fingers through Jaskier’s hair, soothing his lover into a tranquil state. 

“I’ll be here always, dear heart.”

 _One thing is for certain_ _—_ _Geralt could very well stay here forever with Jaskier…_

* * *

Three months after their emotional reunion, Jaskier asks Geralt a question about their future. They're under the willow tree when it happens, secluded from the festivities of a gathering, which is _actually_ for Jaskier's birthday. It looks like the entire town of Kilmoor is there, with groups of guests spread throughout the house and the courtyard. Even for someone like Jaskier, it got quite overwhelming, resulting in a hasty retreat to the willow tree for some peace. No one has noticed their absence _yet_ ; Geralt's considerably pleased with that. 

"Do you ever want to have children in the future, Geralt?" 

Unfortunately, Geralt's just taken a sip from his tankard when Jaskier asks, making him choke then cough violently. Jaskier grimaces as he pats Geralt on the back, patiently waiting until Geralt stops gasping like a fish out of water. 

"What?" Geralt rasps, as he places his tankers on the bench beside him.

Jaskier sighs and rests his hand on Geralt's shoulder before he rubs small circles over the fabric of his cloak. The weather is cold tonight, hence why they didn't forego cloaks to keep themselves warm, especially where the wind picks up under the tree. There are lanterns hanging above that allow dim light to shine down on them, but not so much that others could possibly see the pair in the distance. 

"I asked if you ever want to have children in the future. You know...do you see yourself being a father?" 

Geralt's gaze meets Jaskier's, before he slides his hand over and places it on Jaskier's thigh. 

"I-" 

"You don't have to answer that," Jaskier interrupts, as he stands from the bench. "Forgive me, my love. It was merely a silly question," he adds, while nervously squeezing his hands

" _Jaskier._ " 

Jaskier takes a few steps away from him to gaze out at the lake, shaking his head slightly in frustration at himself. 

"Lately I've been having thoughts about our future. Where do we go from here now that we're together again? I've loved you for so long, Geralt, I feel like I could burst at the seams with the happiness you bring me. It's just...I wonder what awaits us in the years that follow." 

Geralt stares, unblinking, while his mind races with a million thoughts at Jaskier's statement. _Is it good? Is it bad?_ Multiple questions wrack his brain, because there's not a chance in hell that he will leave Jaskier's question unanswered. They've been through a lot, but the last three months have been the absolute finest. _Everyone_ in Kilmoor knows he and Jaskier are courting, it's evident in the way Geralt's witcher contracts increase, or maybe it's because Jaskier's much happier now. 

No _—_ Geralt feels it may be from the news he shared with some of the townsfolk, though only the ones he knew that could keep a secret. He still hasn't given Jaskier his gift, however, he has tried to work up the courage to do so. It's not been the easiest gift to hide, Geralt's had to be tactful in order for his cover to remain under wraps. Thankfully, it all worked out in the end, despite some obstacles along the way. With the main obstacle being Jaskier and his inquisitive nature, _obviously_. 

The silver ring feels hot on his skin when he fishes it from his pocket; breath catching at the beauty of such finery. It shines as he rolls it between his fingers, before he stops to admire the ring for a precious moment. Geralt glances over at Jaskier again and feels all the love for the bard hit him at once. He can't quite believe that he gets to do everything with Jaskier, to love him, to hold him. A warmth settles in the pit of his stomach, slightly coaxes him away from the bench, until the wave of undeniable fearlessness surfaces. 

"If life could give me one blessing," he speaks up, all of a sudden. 

Jaskier turns to face him; looking bemused.

"It would be to be bound to you," Geralt continues. 

"Geralt…" 

"Not only with the love I feel for you" 

Geralt drops to one knee and Jaskier gasps sharply.

"But in matrimony too." 

"I-oh _god,_ this is happening isn't it?" Jaskier chokes out. 

Geralt takes Jaskier's hand as he holds the silver band between his fingers, his gaze steady and calm.

"All I've known is the life of a witcher, to take contracts and be done with it, knowing any day could be my last. Even then, my life didn't feel complete, until we met. I would go to the ends of the earth for you, dear heart, as long as I knew that you were happy. You weren't the only one thinking about our future. I realise now I want all of this, a family, a home...a _husband,_ " he says.

Jaskier sniffs quietly, then exhales shakily, while his grip tightens on Geralt's hand. He blinks rapidly to clear the tears from his eyes, but fails miserably. Geralt smiles at Jaskier and stares up at him, his eyes full of affection and tenderness. 

"Marry me, Jaskier," Geralt proposes.

After he lets out a breathy, joyous laugh, Jaskier nods slowly. 

"Yes, Geralt, a thousand bloody times _yes,_ " he accepts.

Geralt’s smile widens before he slides the ring onto Jaskier’s finger and kisses the back of his hand. 

“Darling, is this...what I think it is?” 

The silver band is adorned with gemstones and the realisation quickly shows on Jaskier’s face.

“I had the silver chain fashioned into a band for you, your father helped me make it.”

Jaskier smiles warmly.

“It’s lovely, I mean it…”

Geralt rises to his feet.

“I love you.”

Jaskier hardly earns a chance to reply since Geralt decides to kiss him sweetly. Geralt’s hand cups the back of his neck, as Jaskier slides his under Geralt’s cloak, where they come to rest comfortably on the witcher’s waist. Geralt pulls back first, but Jaskier lures him in once more, keeping it gentle and subtle. 

“I love you too,” Jaskier says, when they eventually part. “I cannot imagine being with anyone else but you for the rest of my seemingly eventful life,” he adds.

Geralt hums faintly.

“I wouldn’t wish for anything more,” he replies, as he moves his hands down to Jaskier’s waist.

A roguish grin spreads across Jaskier’s face.

“Imagine all the songs I could write about marital bliss, especially the sex.”

Geralt exhales around a grunt.

“Not the sex, Jaskier,” Geralt warns.

“But Geralt the look on everyone’s faces would be _hilarious,_ believe me on that part.”

Geralt pulls Jaskier flush against his chest, their lips only inches apart.

“ _No._ ”

“Oh fine, sometimes I think I need to encourage your spontaneity to come out,” Jaskier mutters.

“My spontaneity comes out in private.”

Jaskier’s eyes gleam with playfulness.

“I can vouch for that,” he purrs, right into Geralt’s ear.

Geralt’s mouth curves up at the corner before he presses his face into Jaskier’s neck and embraces him. Jaskier sighs contently as his arms slide around Geralt’s shoulders; his eyes catching on the silver band shining bright in the moonlight. 

“We’re getting married,” he chuckles.

“That we are,” Geralt says.

He kisses Jaskier breathless this time, that’s the perfect element of it all.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me over on my new Witcher blog... [thewhitewilk](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thewhitewilk)


End file.
